


Liquid Courage

by unholygrass



Series: Human!AU [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Drunken Kissing, Drunken Shenanigans, Established Relationship, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-24 07:15:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17699987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unholygrass/pseuds/unholygrass
Summary: Markus needs a few glasses of wine before asking Connor for his opinion on getting married. Connor is a cheerful drunk.human!AU





	Liquid Courage

**Author's Note:**

> this has been sitting in my WIPs for awhile and it was finished I just never posted it but i figured I would get it out of here for now. This occurs in the same AU as Sweaty Sheets and Nosebleeds in case anyone is curious. I'll make a thing for that soon.

Markus needs an embarrassing amount of liquid courage to even consider asking Connor. The weekend was upon them, and they’d decided early on in the night that they’d be staying in to enjoy each other’s company in ways that sometimes slipped through their fingers throughout the week.

 

When Markus had suggested cracking open a bottle of La Crema, Connor had agreed readily, more than willing to slip into the haze of intoxication after the exhausting week at the police station. Connor tended to shy away from getting too drunk in public, but inside the warmth of their apartment he had already downed four shots and was stirring a tumbler of whiskey.

 

Connor is perched on a barstool in their kitchen, naked except for a pair of Markus’s sweatpants hanging low from his lips as he scrolls halfheartedly through his Twitter, still sipping on a glass of rum and coke that contains far more alcohol than soda. The kitchen lights make him look holy, soft fluorescents bouncing off his pale skin and making him glow. Had Markus not spent the entire night psyching himself up, he’d set out his paints and mark Connor down on canvas.

 

As it is, he downs the rest of his wine and stalks up behind him, wrapping his arms around Connor’s lithe waist. He must have heard him coming, drunk as he was, because he doesn’t startle.

 

It was now or never. He was going to ask. Markus swallows and tries to begin. “So, have you ever thought—”

 

“No. Never thought.” Connor starts, swiping out of his app and dropping his phone to pick up his whiskey instead. Markus can see the smile already spreading across his lips. The alcohol has made him preposterously cheerful. “Thinking is dangerous. I don’t think anything ever.”

 

Markus drops his forehead onto Connor’s shoulder. He probably should have cut Connor off on the last drink— as it was, Connor had entered his stage of drunkenness where words came too fluidly and his filter flew out the window.

 

Connor is still talking. “Big Brother is watching. What about the— the Thought Police, Markus? Huh?” Markus smothers his sentence with a broad hand, clasping it over Connor’s lips gently as laughter threatens to overcome him. Any other night and he would let Connor ramble to his heart’s content, but he set out with a goal in mind. He won’t let Connor’s drunken escapades distract him.

 

Connor swipes his tongue up Markus’s palm in one broad lick. Markus’s can’t contain his laughter. “Connor, Love, I’ve ate your ass. I’m not afraid of you licking my hand.” Nonetheless, he pulls his hand back and frees his partner, reaching for the stool and spinning him around so they were chest to chest. Connor is grinning up at him.

 

“You should be. Because I know for a fact that there are germs on your hands, and— if I get sick, then I’ll probably...mmm— get you sick.” Connor tells him, and Markus might be exasperated if he weren’t so stupidly in love with the red tint to Connor’s cheeks and how his brown eyes gleamed up at him, glazed over and crinkled as Connor fought off his own bout of humor. “I’ll use your toothbrush, or—”

 

“Connor—”

 

“—or kiss you. That would be easier. I’ll kiss you, and get you sick, and it will be your own fault because you put your hand over my mouth because you couldn’t—”

 

“Connor.”

 

“—stand my humor. Really, it’s your own fault—”

 

Markus gives up on using his words and shuts Connor up with a fierce kiss, mashing their lips together and settling his hands on Connor’s chest. He feels Connor’s back make contact with the counter behind him and takes a moment to taste the whiskey in his lover’s mouth. He kisses him hard enough that when he finally frees Connor, he’s too busy catching his breath to begin rambling again.

 

“Are you listening?” Markus asks him, smirk on his lips.

 

“I love it when you shut me up.” Connor tells him, not relinquishing his grip on where his hands had instinctively clung to Markus’s shoulders. “Do it again.”

 

“Connor.”

 

“Markus.”

 

Markus tries his best to be stern and serious, but Connor’s moods have always rubbed off on him, especially while he was drunk. With the wine sitting warmly in his belly, he was struggling to fight off his endearment at Connor’s antics. But he knew that if he didn’t do this now, then he might never. “Be serious.”

 

“Very serious.” Connor repeats, manipulating his face into a cheap imitation of a fierce frown. The effect was lost where his lips fought not to tug up into a grin.

 

Markus figured it was the best he was going to get. He took a breath and steeled himself before speaking. “Have you ever thought if I would be your husband?” No, that’s not how he wanted to word that. He was a little drunker than he realized. He tries again. “Have you ever thought about getting married?”

 

Connor’s face doesn’t change from that fake frown, though his eyes do brighten. As ever, Markus struggles to tell just what he’s thinking. “Are you proposing to me?” Connor asks.

 

“ _No—”_ Markus says, wincing at how loud it comes out. “No, no, I’m just asking. Just asking.” He wasn’t so classless to get Connor wasted and then propose to marry him while they were both half naked in their kitchen. No— he was a romantic at heart. When the time came, he would make it memorable, but that didn’t mean he was just going to _assume._

 

No. This was something best talked about first.

 

Connor’s grin breaks through, his brows still mushed together. “I don’t think those two— two concepts are as separate as you think they are, Mr. Manfred.” Connor stumbles over his words some, but he presses himself closer to Markus’s chest, nearly falling from the stool in the meantime. Only Markus’s broad shoulders save him from spilling onto the floor. He sits back onto his seat.

 

“They are. I’m just asking. I want—” Fuck. He’s been with Connor for three years now. He’s never _known_ a person the way he knows Connor, and no one has _ever_ known him the way Connor does, and yet he still struggles to get the words out. This shouldn’t be so difficult— he’s never imagined himself marrying anyone _but_ Connor, and Connor’s been sure to confirm that he feels the same, and yet the actual act of getting the ball rolling is terrifying. He almost wonders if he should have drank more wine. “I want to be your husband, and I wanted to see if you wanted to be mine too.” Again, not how he wanted to word it, but if the flush on Connor’s cheeks said anything, it was that Connor wouldn’t remember his exact words come morning anyway.

 

Connor finally gives in to the reality of the situation, face morphing into an expression so lovestruck that every piece of anxiety that had been picking away at Markus’s insides crumbles away all at once, and he has to resist every impulse to capture his lips again.

 

Connor swallows twice before speaking, obviously fighting past the haze of alcohol to find his words. “I, Connor Stern, would like nothing more than to be your husband.” Markus is startled by the faint mist that suddenly clouds Connor’s eyes, but before he can say anything about it, Connor has yanked him into another kiss, mashing their noses together and laughing into his mouth. Pulling Connor against his body comes as natural as breathing, and with a nudge of encouragement, he boosts Connor up until his legs wrap around Markus’s waist, his sweatpants slipping down some as he did.

 

Markus feels Connor’s hands cup the back of his head fiercely as his body comes to life beneath him, and takes a moment to consider the night a success before falling into Connor’s intoxicating kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> please review!


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